Old Wounds
by Punk Knut
Summary: DMHGSS triangleShe's had her troubles, she got them. But when Hermione discovers a forbidden potion, all hell breaks loose. And who will be there to save her? Draco or Severus? But what does Severus and Draco have to do with this potion to begin with?
1. Stirring Trouble

**Old Wounds: Chapter One**

**Summary:** _(**DM-HG-SS triangle.)**_ She's had her troubles, she got them. But when Hermione stumbles across a forbidden potion, all hell will break loose. And who will be there to save her? Draco or Severus? But what does Severus and Draco have to do with this potion to begin with?

**Disclaimer:** All characters, places and things in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. Well, at least most of them.

**Chapter One: Stirring Trouble.

* * *

**

Hermione slumped against her Potions' bench. One hundred and seventy-three, one hundred and seventy-four, one hundred and seventy-five; 'Only twenty five more stirs to go,' she thought to herself, attempting to ignore the pain which was throbbing through her arm.

"No, you're doing it too fast," the Potions Master commented.

Hermione sighed; he hadn't said a nice thing to her all night. "If I go any slower I may as well just stop," she shot at him, irritably. Snape rolled his eyes and crossed the room. He swiftly placed his hand over hers and began to slow her stirring.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as Professor Snape's long fingers enclosed around hers. She allowed his strong, yet gentle, hands to take over the stirring; though didn't remove her hand.

'Is it normal for a man over thirty to have hands this soft?' Hermione's mind queried as she stared up at her Potions Master.

"Blink, Miss. Granger," Snape muttered, waving his hand in front of her face. "Sorry?" Hermione blinked, shaking her head.

Snape had removed his hand from her own and was now sitting next to her. "You've done some good work tonight," he told her. This was the first compliment he had given her in the past week. "You'll need to be back here at lunch tomorrow."

At this point, Snape stood and crossed the room; picking up a thick pile of parchment from his desk.

"Why lunch?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"I need your help with preparing some difficult ingredients for my sixth years," he told her, crossing the room. He passed her the thick pile. "This is a few notes on the potion you asked about in class yesterday."

Hermione took the notes, her eyes skimming the front page. It was about the memory potion she was reading about. She'd spent the last month studying it; she hadn't thought Snape would have thought twice about her question.

The potion was designed to help those who suffered from amnesia to remember things they had forgotten. Though the potion had never been finished. The famous Potions Master who had been working on it had mysteriously disappeared ten years ago; now the potion only lasted temporarily and even then the drinker would only remember droplets of information.

"Thank you, sir. I... I don't know what to say."

"A thank you is quite enough," Snape said, dismissing her thanks.

Hermione smiled broadly and tucked the notes into her bag. "I'll see you tomorrow at lunch then," Hermione said, swinging her heavy book-bag onto her back. She crossed to the door, but turned back as her hand laid onto the doorknob. "Sweet dreams, sir."

"Sweet dreams, Miss Granger," Snape said back, though Hermione knew he was now too focused on his potion to even notice what he had said.

This happened often. No-one ever seemed to notice how passionate he was about his art. Hermione had first saw this passion in the first week upon becoming Snape's assistant. They had been brewing a complicated potion and the way he became so captured in it; it was beautiful.

'No-one will ever see know how much passion it must take to drive this man,' she thought before closing the door softly behind herself.

* * *

Hermione casually walked into the library and sat at her usual table without even noticing someone was even sitting there. She had the notes Professor Snape had given her on her potion in front of her face.

"Hmm... Hmm..." someone fake coughed across the table at her. She looked up, surprised.

"Oh, Malfoy. It's just you."

"Well that's nice, Granger. Now, would you mind moving? I was in the middle of something."

"Yes, I would mind," Hermione commented, going back to her notes.

Malfoy ground his teeth. "Move!" he hissed at her.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Just because you're Head Boy doesn't mean you can tell me what to do, Malfoy."

"And you think just because you're Head Girl you can sit wherever you want?"

"In fact, I do," Hermione said smartly and went back to reading.

"Look, Granger, I'll say this nicely. I spend enough time with you in the day, can't you just let me study in peace?"

"You're the one talking. I'm going to sit here, at my usual table, and read," was all Hermione said, before she blocked out his voice completely.

An hour passed before Malfoy grunted in frustration, throwing down his quill.

"Problem?" Hermione asked, she had been taking her own notes at this point.

"Yes, but I don't need your help," Malfoy snapped at her.

"Well someone's having a grumpy day," Hermione teased.

"I thought you were going to be quiet?" Malfoy asked angrily.

"I thought you were going to be too."

"I was."

"Until now."

"Don't mess with my head," Malfoy shot, snapping his book shut.

"Geez, go have a cry," Hermione shot back, looking back at her notes.

Malfoy angrily pushed his things into his book bag and stomped out of the library, as he usually ended up doing. Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her notes.

Draco slammed the door to the Head Common Room, cursing Hermione Granger. It wasn't fair. It wasn't. She was the smartest, the nicest, the most liked, the one with most friends, and the most beautiful. It wasn't fair. She hated him, it was his fault, but he couldn't help it. He was jealous. She was better. He knew it, she knew it, and everyone knew it. And especially Snape.

He saw the way Snape would look at her during classes, when he thought no-one was looking. It wasn't fair either. That was the only reason she got to be his assistant. He hadn't even wanted an assistant before she asked.

She made him so mad, yet his heart flopped whenever she was near.

This was so stupid, why couldn't he have just shut his mouth and enjoyed her presence. He had to go and open his mouth. She would have been perfectly nice if he hadn't.

He was such a , he couldn't stand himself any longer.

* * *

Quickly, he entered his room, slamming the door. He stepped into his bathroom, slashing water onto his face. He reached for his towel, only to clasp onto a pair of dark robes. He found his towel and dried his face, stood back and looked up at his father.

"You know, Father, if Granger sees you in here, she'll freak out."

"I know," Lucius walked back into his son's room.

"So, what are you doing here?"

"I have a request."

"Which is?" Draco asked impatiently, laying down on his four-poster.

"Don't speak like that to me, boy!" Lucius roared.

Draco sat up, his hand gripping his wand. "What was that, Father?" Draco challenged. His father knew his son was more powerful than himself.

Lucius backed down.

"I'm here on behalf of the Dark Lord. He requests your help."

"And what does he wish?" Draco asked, lying back down.

"He needs you to destroy certain information from two certain people."

"And these people are?"

"Severus Snape and Hermione Granger."

"What? Why?" Draco reacted before he could control himself.

"Do you have a problem with this task, Draco?" His father asked suspiciously.

Draco shook his head quickly. "No, Father. It's fine. I'll do it. What is the information I shall retrieve?"

"You can't take it yet, it isn't finished. I'll find you when it is. Your task at the moment is to get close to the mudblood."

Draco's blood boiled as the last word came out of his father's mouth. Sure, he had called her it himself, but that was different. "And?"

"Earn her trust; it is important to the task."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll be in touch," Lucius told him before striding out of the room, the door closing swiftly behind him. Draco threw his pillow at it the moment his father's steps were no longer heard.

"Bastard," Draco muttered, looking up at the canopy of his bed.

He had to get close to her that would be a problem. Though it would be an excellent excuse to get to know her a little better. He knew his infatuation was a little too physical, when there was so much more to her than just her body.

At that moment, he heard Granger enter the Common Room.

"Malfoy!"

A smile played along his lips as he got off his bed.

* * *

_The triangle and all will be better explained in future chapters, I promise. So, tell me what you though for this chapter. The faster you review the faster I'll update. Oh, and I don't like reviews that just say: "Oh, update please." They're so pointless. Seriously give me your views on what you think good or bad. Flames are welcome._

_Until next chapter._


	2. Amonei Curi

**Old Wounds: Chapter Two.**

**Summary:** _(**DM-HG-SS triangle.)**_ She's had her troubles, she got them. But when Hermione stumbles across a forbidden potion, all hell will break loose. And who will be there to save her? Draco or Severus? But what does Severus and Draco have to do with this potion to begin with?

**Disclaimer:** All characters, places and things in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. Well, at least most of them.

**Chapter Two: _Amonei Curi.

* * *

_**

"Malfoy! Get your ass out here, _RIGHT NOW!" _Hermione's voice raged through the Head Common Room.

"Coming, Granger," Draco muttered as he entered the Common Room, his voice all sarcastic-cheer.

"What the hell was that awful man doing here? In _MY_ common room?" she snapped, her eys narrowing.

Draco took a seat near the fireplace, looking quite smug; though he was cursing his father inside. "You mean my father?" Draco played dumb, knowing this would only anger her futher. He knew it pissed him off with the fact that he had dirtied the carpet by which Hermione have earlier, and later, graced.

His father had somehow, much to Draco and Narcissa horror, conned his way out of a sentencing it Azkaban; as you would expect. And he didn't even have to lie about his loyalty to the Dark Lord. Draco knew it was all a set up, practically everyone knew. That nosey Rita Skeeter had tried to dig up some dirt on the load of Lucius spun on his trial day; with no avail, which happened to crush the last of Draco's hopes of losing the hugest in his life.

Draco hated his father more than anyone; anyone. And anyone did include Potter. He had to be the most dispicable person to have ever lives, next to the Dark Lord, of course.

"Yes, your bloody father!" Hermione raged, towering over him at this point.

Draco sighed, not even fased by this. Hermione didn't scare him, she was powerful, but he was quite aware of his own capabilities; as most people were these days. "He had business with Dumbledore," Draco easily lied, "It was just a friendly father-son hello."

Hermione's eyebrows raised. "And why i it that I don't believe you?"

"Granger, Granger, Granger. You need to learn to relax. A little r. and r. might do you some good."

Hermione grunted a noise of frustration, much like the on Draco himself had done that night. She then turned on her heel and stormed into her room, slamming the door behind herself with such force the windows shook.

Hermione seemed as angry as Potter had been when he found out Lucius had evaded Azkaban. The thought of that slimy, deceiving, evil man running loose in England made her shiver, though not as much as the thought of his son still calling encounters with that man 'friendlt father son hello's.' It sickened her almost as much as the thought of Voldemort himself.

Draco sunk further into the armchair in which he sat.

Did he disgust her? Would she find the thought of Severus Snape more enticing than he, Draco Malfoy? This thought was too much for Draco to consider at this moment. Severus Snape wasn't exactly the person he wanted to spend his nights thinking about.

He sighed again, though different to the sigh he had faked for Hermione. His eyes travelled over the floor in his current boredom, now that terrorising Hermione had passed. His eye caught on a few scattered pieces of parchment of the carpet.

Had they been there this whole time? Or had Hermione accidentally dropped them?

He scooped up the papers and read the first paragraph:

_Amonei Curi, or Amnesia Curosia, is a forbidden potion, only concocted by the most skilled of all potion masters. The potion is designed to rid all thoughts of forgetfullness from the human mind (this potion does not work on any creature that does not have a human mind) and restores lost memories._

Draco lifted him eyes from the parchments. He... he knew of this potion. His eyes fell onto Hermione's door. Why was she looking up a forbidden potion. She wouldn't dare attempt to concoct it, would she? She would kill herself, or be killed. Either way, she had no idea what was about to get herself into.

He jumped slightly as Hermione's door burst open and she came striding out of her room. Her eyes searched the floor as she ignored Draco completely.

She cursed under her breath as her eyes swung across the floor once more. Suddenly, her eyes snapped to Draco.

Draco fidgeted in his armchair slightly. He sat, frozen, with the parchment resting soundly in his hand. His eyes looked from the parchment then back to Hermione.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as her eyes noticed the parchment.

She snatched the papers from his grip and without a word, exited to Common Room, again.

Draco silently watched her go, knowing he should say something, but just couldn't bring himself to do it. Then the thought reached his mind. The information that Lucius wished him to extract, it didn't have anything to do with this potion, did it? He wouldn't hurt Hermione right?

He didn't have anything to do with the disappearance of Madame Tequelle Fantae, did he?

Amonei Curi was Madame Fantae's latest work before she had vanished. And if she had gone missing while making it, it didn't mean Hermione would be taken just for researching it, right?

Right? Right?

Draco's mind raced.

Now he had to talk to Hermione.

But if she didn't listen? That wasn't an option. She had to listen.

Draco leapt out of his armchair and pounded on Hermione's door.

"Her-Granger, open the door!" he called through.

* * *

_I know this is a short chapter, I'm really sorry. But I wanted to leave it here, other wise I might make it too, too long._

_Sorry again._

_Until, next chapter._


End file.
